New York Times – February 2007

To find Appetite, an avant-garde gallery that everyone I met recommended, I had to return to one of San Telmo’s less atmospheric blocks. Pop-punk exuberance is Appetite’s stock in trade, its walls (and floors) are covered in a profusion of styles, from Ariel Cusnir’s paintings of idealized tropical islands and Anabella Papa’s witty paintings of beautiful, casual violence (schoolboys brawling, a man attacked by a wolf) to a row of blue plastic shopping bags and a paint can frozen in mid-spill atop a table.

Visiting these lesser-known corners takes a bit of effort. Taxis, which at first blush seem so fast and cheap, get caught in unexpected waves of traffic, and the Subte, or subway, so efficient at whisking people to and from the city center, is worthless if you need to go across town. Walking, while a great way to take in the architecture and vibrant street life, can tire you out, making late-night festivities a literal yawn. And if, like me, you don’t speak Spanish well, it can seem pointlessly strenuous to wander outside the comfort zone of Palermo.

The rewards, however, are worth the fatigue. At Appetite, I was led around the corner to a warehouse where Mr. Cusnir and the fashion label Maison Trash were rehearsing a production of Mr. Cusnir’s art — complete with sand, palm tree and big model helicopter.